


Supernatural Happenings at M.E.R.C.E.

by IarnaStrom



Category: MERCE Series, Supernatural
Genre: Gen, MERCE Series - Freeform, Supernatural A/U
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:54:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7004221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IarnaStrom/pseuds/IarnaStrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will are after a demon unlike anything they have encountered before.  None of the usual tricks work on her and even Crowley is stumped.  But it isn't until they catch her that things really get weird and they find themselves in a universe that seems just like their own.  Here magick and monsters aren't just for hunting, they are citizens of the everyday world.  Now it's up to Sam, Dean, and Castiel to find the demon they lost, but they need the help of Jessie and Luke, two members of an elite task force entrusted with policing the creatures of the Other Side.  But Jessie and Luke aren't normal Hunters, nor are they fully human.  They are Spirare, direct children of angels with the power to channel the element of Spirit in any way they choose.</p>
<p>(A/N: I tried to link J.P. Hart, author of the MERCE Series, as my co-author, but because she doesn't have an Ao3 it wouldn't let me.  Show this awesome chick some love and check out M.E.R.C.E. on Amazon and at www.mercebookseries.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernatural Happenings at M.E.R.C.E.

There was nothing like having a car come flying at your head to making sure you were paying attention.  Sam ducked as best as he could as the rusted out VW beetle whooshed past, crashing into the thick line of trees behind him.  The demon cackled as he scrambled to his feet and came running at her with holy water.  Dean moved in from the other side, pumping his sawed off to chamber another round of bullets made from melted down angel-blade pellets.  It was kind of a spray-and-pray kind of night as they chased the demon through the junkyard in the middle of the Colorado backwoods ten miles from the nearest town.  They had tried all of the usual tricks to bring the bitch down after catching the case two deaths in a week before.  She’d sauntered out of devil’s traps and kicked open lines of salt.  Sam had even tried exorcising her but all she’d done was flip him off.  The demon was nothing like they’d ever come across and even Cas was stumped.  As a last stitch effort, they asked Crowley from help.

The King of Hell had taken one look at the demon and claimed, “No dibs, lads.  She’s not one of mine and I have no idea what she is.” 

So Sam, Dean, and Cas were just trying to put her down the best way they knew how.  Gank her sorry ass.

“Smile, bitch,” Dean growled as he took aim and fired at her face. 

Her mouth split open in a gaping maw and she let out an ear-piercing screech.  The sound of the shotgun cut it off and left Sam’s ears ringing, but all the demon did was laugh as it spit out the buckshot one pellet at a time.  Cas started chanting in Enochian as Sam tackled her from behind.  The plan was if the shotgun didn’t take her out to get her into the truck of the Impala where Cas had reinforced the Key of Solomon painted inside the lid with a handful of angelic symbols meant to keep all monsters in.  The demon hissed and spat at Sam as he wrestled her to the car.  For someone who had just throw a compact like a softball, she wasn’t struggling too hard.  She started snapping out harsh words in a language Sam didn’t understand as Cas continued to chant.

“Hang on a second,” Dean said as he narrowed his eyes at the demon and pulled out his phone as Sam continued to hold her.

“Seriously, Dean?” Sam asked as his brother opened the translator app he’d downloaded.  “Now?”

“I want to know what she’s saying,” Dean said.  “Maybe it will help us figure out what kind of demon she is so we can put her down once and for all.”

The demon started to laugh and spoke in its language calmly as Dean’s phone translated for them out loud.

“You stupid mortals,” the demon said.  “You can’t kill me.  Your kind has tried a thousand times, but I serve Hecate.  If you should kill me, the goddess would remake me as she sees fit and I will do as she pleases.  My Mistress calls me back to the shadows as we speak.  My work here is done and you no longer amuse me.  Let me go!”

“Not likely,” Sam said, grunting as she started to struggle again.

“If you’re really so powerful, why don’t you just smoke out of that meat suit and run?” Dean asked.

“What is a meat suit?” the demon asked, going still in momentary confusion.

“The human you’re possessing,” Sam said and the demon tilted her blond head up to look at him.

“I’m not possessing a human,” she said.  “And I do not turn to smoke.  I walk the Veil like many of the creatures of magick do.  But I can’t with that imposter angel chanting his stupid spells.”

“I am not an imposter,” Cas said, abandoning his chant.  “I am an angel of the Lord.”

“Which one?” the demon asked with a look that said she wasn’t impressed.

“ _The_ Lord,” Cas said.  “The only Lord there is.”

“Stupid monotheistic pigeons,” the demon grumbled.  “This is why I hate this side.  At least the Mancers understand the concept of what _real_ magick is.”

“We understand enough,” Dean said, turning off the translator app, effectively shutting her up.  “Cas!”

Cas took the hint and hit the demon with his patented nuclear smite, but instead of going glowy eyed and frying out, the demon was knocked out cold.

“Shit,” Dean said as the demon went limp in Sam’s arms.  “Why isn’t she dead?”

“I don’t know,” Cas said as Sam scooped her up in his arms and dumped her in the trunk.

“Whatever she is, she said something that sounded familiar,” Sam said as he closed the lid to lock her in.

“What?” Dean asked as he got in the Impala behind the wheel and Sam got in beside him. 

“A word she used, ‘Mancer’, I’ve read it somewhere before,” he said as Cas shut the backseat door after sliding in behind him.  “I remember thinking it was weird that something called a Mancer would be painted as a good guy in the Men of Letters Archives.”

Sam pulled out his phone and started going through the archives he had uploaded to the cloud after converting most of it to digital.  While he searched, Dean grumbled about Colorado being too fucking cold for Fall and turned on the heater.  It had been snowing lightly in the beginning of the night, but by the time they turned down the dirt road that would lead them deeper into the Rocky Mountains, it had stopped.  They’d decided to do more research on what their captive was at an old cabin their dad had marked in his journal.  One of many John Winchester had stashed away where no one was likely to find it.  Dean’s phone called out directions as the GPS showed them the way to the coordinates their dad had written on the page, but other than that it was fairly silent in the car.  All three of them were exhausted from fighting with the demon in the trunk.  Sam sighed in relief as the ramshackle building came into sight just when the thing finally woke up and started hollering.  Sam groaned and looked in the backseat at Castiel with the hopes that the angel could whammy her again.

But, Castiel was sitting bolt upright in his seat, his blue eyes peeled wide at what was on the other side of the windshield.  Sam turned, but saw nothing and was just about to ask Cas what was wrong when the angel lunged forward and grabbed both him and his brother in their seats.

“Hold on!” Cas bellowed as he started to glow, his grace expanding outward to envelop the whole car.

Sam’s stomach started to flip as his vision went hazy and his head hit the window as Dean wrenched the wheel to the side in surprise.  The Impala spun out on the icy road, the pirouette punctuated by two loud pops like gunfire followed by repeating hollow thuds.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean swore as he fought to correct the spin.  “Cas, what the hell?” he snapped once they were rolling in a straight line again.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” the angel said as he let them both go.  “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“For what?” Sam asked, rubbing his forehead and looking at his fingers to find blood sticking to his skin.

“You didn’t see it?” he asked, obviously confused.

“See what?” Dean asked as he pulled the car over.  “What could have possibly warranted you trying to get us killed?”

“Dean?” Sam asked as he looked out the window and frowned.

“What, Sam?”

“Isn’t the cabin supposed to be over there?” he asked, pointing in the direction he’d seen the building.  In its place was a cluster of mature oak trees and the woods around it looked pristine. 

“It must be farther up the road, but we’re going to have to walk,” he said angrily.  “The back two tires are flat.”

“What about the demon?” Sam asked as Dean killed the engine and got out, followed by Sam and Cas.

“Let it freeze to death,” Dean grumbled and pulled his leather jacket shut against the falling snowdrifts.

Sam frowned even deeper when he saw the swirls of white.  It wasn’t snowing a second ago and what had already fallen before had started to melt.  But the thin blanket of flakes that crunched under his boots seemed perfectly content to stay exactly where it was.  Off in the distance heading towards them, Sam heard the howl of a wolf that made all three men stop cold.

“Is it just me, or did that sound a hell of a lot like,” Sam said.

“A hellhound,” Dean finished, confirming his fear and all three men ran for the car.

Dean fired up the engine and started to back up fast, trying to turn the car around to get the hell away from the area.  Unfortunately with the back tires flat on the icy road, he couldn’t keep the Impala on track.  The ass of the car fishtailed and slammed hard into a nearby tree, popping the trunk and setting the demon free.  But instead of vanishing or smoking out, the demon just stood there and listened to the howl of the hellhound.  Finally, she tilted her head back and inhaled like she was smelling the air before just blinking out.

A heartbeat later a massive truck with enough headlights to rival the sun came rolling over the hill.  The sound of the hellhound seemed to travel with it, but it soon cut off mid howl as the truck started to slow down.  It paused a few feet away and a small figure climbed out of the back, tossing a length of rope over their shoulder before pausing by the driver’s side.  Sam held his hand up to try and shield his eyes from the light-bar of death attached to the roof of the mini monster truck, but he couldn’t make out the driver or the person beside the cab.  At least until a small woman came past the truck and closer to the Impala.  That was when Sam realized it wasn’t a rope the woman had tossed over her shoulder, it was a hip-length braid the color of midnight.  She tapped her long nails on Dean’s window and he rolled it down, palming his .45 on the seat beside him.

“Y'all alright?” the woman asked in a pleasantly deep voice thick with a Southern drawl.

“We’re fine,” Dean said, watching her carefully.

“Yeah, sure,” she said with a chuckle as her light eyes landed on Sam.  It could have been a trick of the light, but one eye looked blue and the other looked green.  “That one’s bleeding and you’re turning blue.  And that one,” she said looking in the back at Cas, pausing to stand straight up.  Her head whipped back to look at the truck and Sam heard her yell, “Seraph!”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean swore and drew his gun on her as he opened the door.  “Look, lady, I don’t know who you are or what you are, but the angel is with us.  So if you’re planning anything stupid you’re going to have to go through me.”

“Back off, meathead,” the woman said, rolling her eyes at him.  “And put the gun down before my Seraph rips your arm off and uses it to play fetch with my son.”

“Huh?” was all Dean got out before a black haired hulk in a leather trench coat appeared beside him out of thin air.  Sam was out of the car in a flash with his own gun up as the hulk grabbed his brother and slammed him against the car.

“Hey, asshat!” Sam yelled, making the man turn. 

He was about to pull the trigger when the man’s eyes flashed ruby red in the light of the truck.  He only hesitated for a moment but it was enough.  A cold, small hand landed on his arm and, suddenly, images of being back in the cage flooded his mind, making him lock up and shake all the way to his bones.  The woman’s voice echoed in his head as he turned to see her standing beside him, touching his arm where it was exposed by his jacket.

“You never threaten what is mine,” her voice whispered in his mind.  “You have two choices at this point.  Put down the gun and we’ll play nice, or I’ll make you put it to your temple and pull the trigger.”

Sam dropped the gun and images faded almost instantly, leaving him shaking with undiluted terror as she picked it up and disarmed it easily.

“Good boy,” she said as she stuffed the gun into her pocket.  “Now, would you mind explaining to me why you’re holding an angel hostage?”

 


End file.
